


now i'm in exile, seeing you out

by jessicamiriamdrew



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bad Decisions, Break-up sex, M/M, Post-Break Up, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicamiriamdrew/pseuds/jessicamiriamdrew
Summary: Genma is coping fine after their mutual break up, until he sees Iruka again, and isn't so sure.
Relationships: Shiranui Genma/Umino Iruka
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	now i'm in exile, seeing you out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seekingsquake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/gifts).



> hey seekingsquake i can't stop thinking abt the new taylor albums and iruka/genma and that is YOUR FAULT, so this is for you.
> 
> there is one flashback scene in italics. that's also mostly where the mature rating rests.
> 
> when, exactly, in naruto timeline does this take place? rihanna wink dot gif. wherever it seems best

Genma gives up his second favorite bar in the breakup. He misses spending Tuesday nights there, but it’s better than running into Iruka.

Like he just has, which doesn’t make sense, because _this_ is the bar he kept in the breakup.

“Genma!” Anko says, far too loudly for the space. “I thought you were on a mission!”

He pulls the senbon out of his mouth so he doesn’t snap it between his teeth. “Got back yesterday, actually.”

“You look good,” he tells Iruka. He always does, but it’s been a month or two since Genma has been so close to him.

Iruka pushes back a lock of hair that’s fallen from his low ponytail and gives him a shy smile.

That hairstyle is the one Genma likes best on Iruka, not that his opinion on the subject matters. Still, it hurts to see Iruka looking fresh and moving on, so Genma resigns himself to the evening being over.

The urge to grasp Iruka’s hand is too strong, and if he waits, he’ll make a bad choice.

“Have a good night,” he says to the two of them, and hopes it sounds sincere.

The air is shocking on his face when he squeezes his way from the bar. Genma wants to go somewhere else and keep drinking, but that would be a bad call.

He walks to his apartment at a slow pace, remembering when he called it a home. When Iruka was still there.

*

The person outside of his apartment is trying to conceal their chakra, but their control is slipping. Just enough for Genma to know there’s a person lingering outside of his front door.

He doesn’t sense any killing intent--and anyone who really wanted to kill him could have by now--and he can’t figure out the loitering.

Genma cloaks his presence and steps to the doorframe. Having ocular jutsu would be very useful, but he doesn’t, so he takes a silent breath and swings open his door.

Iruka is crouching in front of the door with a box, face reddening the longer Genma looks at him.

“I was hoping you weren’t home,” Iruka mutters, almost falling as he returns upright to his feet.

“Clearly,” Genma drawls. “And it isn’t my birthday,” he adds, looking at the box on the ground.

“I found some of your things. I thought you might want them back.”

Part of Genma wants to point out over three months have passed, and it’s summer, and Iruka is a clean freak.

Which means these are items Iruka didn’t want to deal with, or give back to Genma, or a combo of the two.

Genma never asked for the necklace back. He hopes Iruka wears it.

“I have to go,” Iruka says, a small shrug a clear indicator of the lie. “But I’ll see you around, hey?”

“Sure,” Genma says to Iruka’s back as he leaves. It’s childish for Genma to kick the box, but Iruka was trying to avoid seeing him at all, so he thinks they’re even.

*

Genma ignores the box for two days.

By day three, he undoes the lid like ripping off a bandage, and dumps the contents onto his table.

There’s nothing in the box that social norms would dictate Iruka returning to Genma. There’s a well-worn deck of cards, a comb that honestly might be Iruka’s own, a single sock, and a pair of Genma’s exercise shorts that he didn’t realize were missing.

Maybe seeing Genma made Iruka desperate to scrub these vestiges and echoes of Genma from his life.

But not enough to return the necklace.

*

Raido tells Genma that Iruka and Kakashi have been spending time together when they’re on a routine patrol mission on the border of the Land of Fire.

He doesn’t know what to do with the burning in his chest. Iruka and Kakashi were friends before, but it’s the fact that Raido felt Genma needed to know this _now_. When they’re miles away from anyone else, where Genma could blow off steam if he wanted.

“You know, if you would just tell me why you two ended things,” Raido says, snapping Genma from his thoughts, “maybe I could help.”

Genma wants to throw his cards on the table, get Raido to help him strategize, but it isn’t only his story to expose.

“Sometimes things don’t work out, Raido. And that’s all the reason there is.”

*

_“I don’t want to discuss it anymore,” Genma says, splaying his hands over his knees. He just got back from a long mission: he doesn’t want to discuss the hypothetical next one._

_Iruka sighs, the look in his eyes making Genma **nervous**._

_“Then I don’t want to do this anymore.”_

_Genma swears the sentence shakes his entire apartment building._

_“It’s too hard to be alone this much,” Iruka adds. “Not when I don’t have to be.”_

_The kiss lasts longer than a breakup kiss should, by all standard goodbye kisses Genma has ever had._

_He shouldn’t let Iruka slide his hands under his shirt, and he shouldn’t mirror the movement._

_Iruka climbs into his lap, straddling him, and Genma should stop this. It’ll only hurt them both later, but then Iruka is nibbling along his collarbone, the blunt edge of his nails digging into Genma’s hips._

_He swears he only blinks once and they’ve made it to the bedroom._

_Genma is slower than necessary prepping Iruka, drawing out the moment to keep Iruka here a bit longer. He makes Iruka come before he even thinks about fucking him._

_“Fuuuck,” Genma hisses, dropping down to rest his forehead against Iruka’s._

_He hums at Genma and twists his hips, making Genma jolt._

_It’s strange not talking beyond the occasional “like that” or “please.” He’s gotten so used to Iruka elbowing him during sex and laughing at Genma’s feigned hurt._

_Maybe there hasn’t been much mirth lately. He laces his hands with Iruka’s._

_Genma knows it’s cruel and impossible—but he wants to ruin Iruka for anyone else. To make it that any touch will remind Iruka of who he could be having instead._

_Iruka’s blush of exertion hasn’t faded when he starts to clean up. Genma watches him get dressed, but doesn’t walk him to the door._

*

Getting called in to cover a mission desk shift is annoying, but it happens. He shrugs into his flak jacket and meanders to the office. 

Genma frowns: he hasn’t kept up with the shift schedules since he isn’t on the standard roster for it. Hopefully it’s Kotetsu and not some newbie chunin trying to reinvent the paperwork wheel.

He realizes as he steps inside that a shift with only Naruto might be preferable to the actual situation. Iruka and an empty office.

A year ago, he could’ve spent the shift getting Iruka hot and bothered with some casual flirting and pointed looks.

Genma resists the nervous urge to play with his senbon. Iruka knows all of his tells. The only game he’s ever beaten Iruka at is strip poker.

“Someone was sick,” Genma explains, like Iruka probably doesn’t know that already. “I didn’t know the schedule…”

“We’re adults,” Iruka says, shrugging and turning back to the stack of filing at his seat. His high ponytail taunts Genma, who wants nothing more than to lock the door, untie Iruka’s hitai-ate, and let Iruka’s hair flow. He’d press his luck too, see how far Iruka would let him take their interaction.

Genma sighs internally and slides into the other desk that’s set up. Great, an evening of paperwork filing with Iruka two seats away and as stunning as ever.

He wonders when they stopped having anything to say to each other.

*

“Let me walk you home, please, Iruka,” Genma says as they make their way outside of the tower after locking up. 

Midnight isn’t that late, but it feels wrong not to offer to make sure Iruka gets home safely.

“For my peace of mind,” Genma adds, when Iruka’s eyebrow raises. It’s nothing to do with Iruka’s abilities and everything to do with Genma's sense of duty borne from years of serving as a bodyguard.

“Okay,” Iruka says, nodding sharply.

The path to Iruka’s apartment is engrained in Genma’s mind. He’s had to stop himself from walking to Iruka’s instead of his own a few times.

The solitude of their walk feels more companionable than awkward, if Genma is lucky, then Iruka is also remembering the times they’ve gone this route together.

When faced with the entrance to Iruka’s building, Genma’s surety falters. 

“I’m going to make some chamomile,” Iruka says, more to the doorframe than to Genma. “It’d be no trouble to pour two cups.”

“Sounds great,” Genma says, and removes the senbon from his mouth.

*

He hesitates sliding his shoes off and winces at the pang of being relegated to generic guest slippers. Iruka bolts the door but doesn’t throw up any wards, and Genma can’t decide what that means.

“You’ve been spending more time in the village,” Iruka says, headed to the kitchen.

Genma trails behind him, a ghost, and prevents himself from starting the kettle on his own. He isn’t afforded that familiarity anymore.

“Just how the cards have fallen,” he says. “Turns out it’s not so bad.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Iruka mutters. The cabinet door swings closed as Iruka turns around, sans any container of tea. He stalks forward, pushing Genma back until he’s against the wall. “It’s been months, Genma.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me, sensei,” Genma says, brushing his fingers across the bit of hair working its way out from under Iruka’s hitai-ate.

Iruka leans into the touch and Genma’s hand drops to trace the contours of Iruka’s cheek, thumb grazing the scar on his nose.

“Please,” Iruka says, voice cracking, his hand reflexively, soothingly grasping at the thin silver chain around his own neck.

The kiss lingers in its uncertainty, that flash of heat in Iruka’s eyes making Genma feel like he’s trapped in a Nara shadow jutsu.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, and kisses Iruka again.

He’s tired of the intransigency between them, of creating problems with solutions but letting them fester.

“Let’s go for breakfast in the morning,” Genma says, thumbing away a tear welling in the corner of Iruka’s eye. “Fill me in on all I’ve missed.

“If you’ll lend me fresh clothes, we can head there together.”

**Author's Note:**

> ty stupidbadgers for reading this over and hashing out some things with me, <3, and ty to deepestbluest as always for telling me what i wrote is good when im having doubts
> 
> all mistakes are mine
> 
> you can find me at jessicamiriamdrew on tumblr as well :)


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